


picture frames

by r0uen



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27372121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r0uen/pseuds/r0uen
Summary: akaashi can't find an upside to unrequited love.written for hq angst week, day 3 ("photographs").
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Kudos: 18
Collections: Haikyuu Angst Week 2020





	picture frames

**Author's Note:**

> bokuaka brainrot + hq angst week + me delaying school work = this (kinda horrible) fic. my writing style is a bit different here but i'm still proud of it. enjoy!

"I still keep a picture of us on my nightstand, Bokuto-san," he says to no one.

Akaashi is in his room, alone (like always). He is staring at the ceiling, trying to gather the motivation to cry (like always). And he is hopelessly in love with Bokuto Koutarou (like always). 

His eyes close, and he wills himself to blink, breathe, move, do anything besides wallow in stolen memories, in "what-if"s and "maybe"s and "should have"s. 

Akaashi has yet to outgrow his high school years, yet to outgrow young love stories, yet to outgrow the "Get Your Crush's Attention!" articles in teen magazines. He wants to, desperately- he wants to think about the moldable future instead of the concrete past. 

Instead, he picks up the picture frame on his nightstand and stares. 

It's a picture from Bokuto's third year, from the day nationals began. It's focused on the two of them, the rest of the team blurred out in the background. Bokuto has his arm around Akaashi's shoulders and is grinning while shouting something (he remembers it was "Your sets are the best Akaashi! We're sure to win!"). Akaashi is blushing faintly, a small smile on his face, looking away from Bokuto but leaning into his touch all the same. 

He still remembers that day perfectly- Bokuto complimented him often, but the combination of the loud compliment with an arm around his shoulders was just too much. He remembers the warmth of Bokuto's jersey, the way his cheeks burned with words unspoken, the way Bokuto had looked at him like he hung the stars. 

After they won their first game, the afterglow of victory bright on their skin, Bokuto had said, "Y'know, I love you a lot, Akaashi." 

His voice was soft and sincere, and Akaashi's chest burned with unrequited love. He could read Bokuto like a book, and right now he knew "love" was strictly platonic to him. 

So he returned the smile, lips shaking with the effort to keep his feelings inside, and said "I love you too, Bokuto-san." The words were spoken with a different implication, and it was as close as Akaashi ever got to confessing to Bokuto. 

That was the last time Akaashi even said "I love you" to Bokuto. He'll say "you too" or "love you too" if Bokuto says "I love you" but never the actual phrase itself. Something about it feels sacred and fragile, like if he tells Bokuto "I love you" again he might just break into two. He doesn't want to bear his feelings for the world to see (a frank lie he tells himself to feel some sense of normalcy). 

He survived his whole life before highschool without Bokuto, but these past three years without him have felt impossible. It's peculiar, the way he yearns for a touch he can never have, the way he savors a kiss he's never experienced. 

Akaashi knows this, knows that Bokuto will never love him back, knows that he's on the downside of unrequited feelings. 

Despite all that, he turns the frame over in his palms and pulls off the backing. 

Another picture falls out- a polaroid this time. Bokuto peacefully asleep at training camp, hair on the pillow, gripping Akaashi's arm like a lifeline, and underneath it, in soft, curling script: "8/11: the day i fell in love". 

This picture, and these feelings, are things he has never shared with anyone. They stay locked away, behind closed doors and volleyball uniforms and platonic facades and picture frames. 

Akaashi's life feels like some worn-out teen fiction novel, having a crush on the protagonist and then being ignored for a better love interest later on. 

It hurts, like it always does (the realization that your world isn't waiting for you) but he doesn't shy away from the pain- he basks in it, wearing it like a badge of honor. 

It's fucked up. He must be a closet masochist or something. 

Or maybe embracing the hurt just makes him feel it less. He buries his love deep inside and masquerades as a liar that doesn't want to be believed. 

He used to think he had a chance with Bokuto. The other man's sexuality doesn't help- Bokuto has been openly bisexual since his third year, and Akaashi couldn't help but wish that meant something more. Instead, it just meant Bokuto would ask Akaashi for help on how to pick up guys (since Akaashi was one of the only gay men in the school) and would constantly point out guys he found attractive ("Hey, hey Akaashi! Look at that blue-haired guy. He's so cute!"). 

It all just made it hurt more. 

Bokuto even invited him to a gay bar a few months back, but Akaashi declined, citing that he had way too much homework to do (the real reason is that Bokuto looks too enchanting under flashing lights and he wouldn't be able to look away). 

He runs a thumb over the plastic border of the picture, wondering what it would be like to wake up next to Bokuto, to do it every morning, to get to kiss him awake and watch his nose scrunch as he yawns. 

Akaashi will never be able to do that- for Bokuto, or for anyone. 

The realization stings less than it should

The silence that has settled over his apartment is broken by the opening notes of some indie song, one that Bokuto set as his own ringtone on Akaashi's phone back in highschool (it's titled "Best Friend", and the irony isn't lost on Akaashi). 

He picks up (of course he picks up, he always picks up) and says, "Hello, Bokuto-san." 

"Hey hey hey Akaashi!" responds the love of his life. 

Their conversation continues late on into the night, Bokuto discussing the training he's been doing with his college team and "you gotta come see us play again, Akaashi!"

It's the most poetic torture he's ever experienced. 

Akaashi closes up the picture frame as he talks to Bokuto, packing his love away with pink-tinged polaroids. 

It still hurts, even when he looks away. 


End file.
